The Cat on the Pianoforte: Part Two
by gingersnapperr
Summary: Catherine, now Mrs. Fitzwilliam, suffers from the consumption and is treated in a sanitorium with her new husband at her side. During her illness, old wounds open up again and she refuses sleep due to night terrors, not helping her recover from her illness. But bad things always come with good. Told from the Colonel's point of view. (Sequel to TCOTP: Part One)
1. 12 April, 1814

_Tuesday, 12 April 1814_

 _To myself,_

 _This very morning, my dearest Catherine and I joined in a holy union beneath the eyes of God, although to the grand nation of England, of the United Kingdom, we have legally married and become Colonel and Mrs. Fitzwilliam, viscount and viscountess of Matlock. I enjoy the privilege now of sharing a bedchamber with my Catherine and have become very much aware to her now nightly routine of vigorous coughing. I had asked for a pot of boiling hot water for her with salt in it in hopes of clearing her throat. It helped enough to enable her to sleep, and consummation of our marriage will not be happening until she is well._

 _The wedding was small and private, with only the guests of Longbourn present. Mr. and Mrs. Bingley were in London and did not attend, but Mr. and Mrs. Edward and Mary Casey were in attendance, as were Mr. and Mrs. George and Lydia Wickham, much to my Catherine's dismay. Mr. John Fairfax was in attendance, along with dear Georgiana, as were Mr. and Mrs. Bennet. My Catherine wore that beautiful deep royal blue dress with a white ribbon in her hair, of which she later told me in private that her mother wished she had not worn. I thought she looked positively beautiful, as I adore the dress, and because she is my beautiful Catherine. We will stay another day before we depart for my mother's childhood home in Clitheroe in Lancashire, a home that I had grown up in, and a home where many of the brothers and sisters between myself and Timothy and Lucy had lived and died. It was the home where Timothy was staying during his own illness with Madge, so it's quiet activity will do well for my Catherine during her illness._

 _Mama and Father are away in Matlock, but Mama plans on coming to the Clitheroe estate to assist me in caring for Catherine until I hear word from the Sanatorium. I asked in my letter that they write to the Clitheroe estate if they have a room for Catherine and sent the letter on express. As much as I would hate uprooting her so soon after our marriage and so early into her illness, I feel it is best if the news arrives. Even if the sanitorium does not have room for her, at least she will be someplace quiet and calm, as Clitheroe is a very peaceful village._

 _I must close up this entry now, and join my wife in slumber. I wish to stay by her side in case her illness worsens in the night._

 _Yours,_

 _Colonel R. Fitzwilliam_


	2. 14 April, 1814

_Thursday, 14 April 1814_

 _To myself,_

 _On this day, we departed from Longbourn for Clitheroe and have stopped for the evening in Hardingstone, in Northampton. I arranged the best of carriages that I possibly could for my Catherine in regards to space and comfort, but I know that it will never be as good as a warm and comfortable bed. When we left this morning, it was hard for Catherine to say goodbye to her family, as she had never in her nineteen years been apart from any member of her family for an extended period of time..._

* * *

I stood aside as Catherine said her farewells to her mother and father and to her two sisters, whom she had grown used to being away from. I suppose she feared that she was saying goodbye for the final time, although a small part of me knew that this wouldn't be the last time she'd see them. But it was when she said goodbye to one of her brother-in-laws, Mr. George Wickham. Mr. Edward Casey was cheerful in his farewell to her and wished her the best, swearing to write a composition in her name and honour, but Mr. Wickham, whom I have had the misfortune of knowing far too long, looked at her with a lustful reproach. I had known him when he had attempted to elope with Georgiana a few years before, but his interaction with Catherine was very much unexpected.

"Farewell to you, Mrs. Fitzwilliam, hopefully not for the last time, yes?" he'd said to her.

"Oh, I'm sure it won't be," Catherine replied meekly, not meeting his eyes. It was very uncharacteristic for her and not at all a way my Catherine would behave.

"Come and give your dear brother a hug, won't you?" he said with a smirk, and Catherine took a step back from him.

"I wouldn't wish to risk you catching ill," she said, rather monotone. My Catherine's tone of voice was always colourful but this tone was rather grey.

"My dear sister, come and give us a hug-" He took hold of her wrist and she recoiled away, her eyes widened in fear, and I stepped from the shadows and took my Catherine's shoulders in my hands.

"George, do let her be. She isn't well," I said as politely as I could, and Wickham took a step back. I hated that this man was now my brother by marriage, but it couldn't be helped, for I loved my Catherine and married her family as well as her.

"Very well, then," he said coldly. "Here's to hoping she makes it, then, yes?"

"Indeed," I replied. "Come, my love, and let us set on our way. We've a long journey ahead of us."

"How far is Clitheroe from here?" she asked me as I led her away from Wickham.

"About three days by carriage. No fear, my dear, for we shall be there in no time. I expect you to get plenty of rest as we journey there," I told her.

"I plan on sketching the countryside. It will keep my restless mind at ease," she said to me.

"Catherine, your hand will only slip. The path is not a smooth one-"

"It will add to my style, then, won't it?" She turned to her mother and father one final time. "Be sure to write to me. I will write as often as I can. I don't want to miss a thing."

"You will do as you're told and listen to your husband when he tells you to rest," said Mr. Bennet. "He is wise and you are in good hands. You ought to recover quickly in his care."

"Papa! I will of course rest plenty, but that does not mean that I can't be updated on the family affairs! I want to know how my lovely niece is doing and Lizzy, as well, and I will be very upset if I am not told when Jane's baby is born!" Catherine cried with a smile.

"I will of course write to you, dear, when beautiful Jane has her child!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, then she turned to me. "Now, you take good care of my daughter. If she gets any worse, you will have me to deal with!" I chuckled lightly and smiled warmly at her.

"You've nothing to worry about, Mrs. Bennet. My dear mother will also be tending to her at our estate in Clitheroe and she had attended to Catherine during her illness this past winter. She will be in very good hands," I assured her. We said another round of farewells before I assisted Catherine in climbing into the carriage, and I followed shortly after. I made sure that Catherine was well situated before I signaled the driver that we were ready for our journey, and we set off. As our carriage bumped along, I closed the curtains over the windows to allow my Catherine some privacy. "You ought to try resting your eyes," I told her, but she shook her head.

"I could never sleep in a moving carriage. Even attempting to makes me sick to my stomach," she replied.

"I see..." I paused a moment. "How does it feel, now, to be Mrs. Catherine Fitzwilliam?"

"Positively wonderful! I just wish I wasn't feeling so poor. I can't enjoy it, and neither can you."

"If you are referring to our not consummating our marriage last night, then Catherine, allow me to assure you that I do not need intercourse from you to be happy with you. I am just as happy being married to you." She smiled slightly, her cheeks turning a pale shade of rose.

"I'm glad to hear of it," she said, and she sat up and reached for my hand across the carriage.

"Catherine, lie down, please-"

"Can we not enjoy this moment together? I fear that we may not have the chance to again."

"My love, have faith-"

"I don't wish to discuss my lack of faith in myself, Richard. I wish to spend this moment with you in your arms, while I am well enough. I understand you wish to care for me as best as you can, but do stop being my physician for five minutes and be my husband instead."

"As your husband, it is my job to-"

"Then be my lover. Encase me in those strong arms of yours and keep me there until I desire to wiggle free." I smiled gently at her and gave her a happy sigh.

"Very well, then. You've won me over with your elegant charm." I reached over and lifted her from her seat, sitting down on the opposite side with her seated in my lap. She purred ever so softly like a kitten as I pressed my head against hers. "You sound like a very happy kitten." She scoffed.

"Please, my Richard, don't ever remind me of that terrible nickname again," she said, and I chuckled. "And don't laugh at me, either!"

"I promise you, my love, I am not laughing at you. Your very quirky personality amuses me so and reminds me every day of why I fell in love with you."

"You must really like bizarre things, then, if you are attached to my personality."

"I do. I rather enjoyed my time in the militia, seeing bizarre new places with bizarre new things to try out. I learned of many bizarre new cultures and tried many bizarre new foods and I suppose that interested stuck with me. I needed a bizarre new personality to tie myself to and I found you, my bizarre new girl."

"You intrigue me, Richard, for I cannot help but to love you more and more each day." I pressed my lips to the top of her head before I went to steal a kiss from her lips; she turned her head.

"Catherine-"

"I don't wish to get you sick, too, Richard. Only one of us can be ill, but not both. It will be so taxing on your dear mother."

"She's cared for me through many a childhood illness. All I want from you is a small kiss-"

"No! You needn't get ill, too! I need your strength, as you've said so many times before. Please, Richard, I don't wish to take the risk." I let out a defeated sigh. "Very well, my dear. If it pleases you, then I shall heed your request. Are you hungry?"

"If I eat, I shall regurgitate the contents of my stomach all over this carriage and most likely you." I couldn't help but laugh, in love with her very interesting choice of words.

"All right, my dearest love." I held her in silence for a little while longer, stroking her beautiful brown hair and gazing into her beautiful blue eyes when I recalled her interactions with Wickham before we left. "Catherine, what happened between yourself and Mr. Wickham?"

"I beg your pardon?" she asked me, slightly surprised.

"I am a rather intuitive and observant man - not much escapes my eye. Early, when you were saying farewell to your family, you recoiled from Mr. Wickham as if in terror. Being your concerned husband, I cannot help but wonder-"

"Nothing." She sat up and crawled to the other side of the carriage, leaving my lap bare.

"Catherine-"

"Don't question me about it, Richard. I don't wish to give you answers." I paused for a moment, wondering what on earth that snake of a man could have done to illicit such a harsh response from my sweet Catherine. My mind went wild with ideas, but one stuck out in my mind that angered me to even be aware of the existence of, let alone think of.

"What did that man do to you," I whispered to her. "He hurt you, didn't he?"

"I won't answer you, Richard."

"What was it that he did? Did he insult you? Or was it far worse? Did he hit you? Did he push you down the stairs? Did he-" I paused, not even able to allow the words to pass through my lips. "Did he... have his way with you..."

"I told you, Richard, I will not answer you." She must have seen the fear and worry in my eyes, for she then next said, "I am still in possession of my maidenhead. That you don't have to worry about." I let out a sigh of relief; I would not be spending the first few years of our marriage behind bars for murder.

"Rest, Catherine. You've had a very taxing few days. You must be tired." She complied, finally, and she lay down on the padded bench. I sat there in silence across from her while her gaze remained at the floor, my eyes darting between her and the countryside behind the crack in the curtains.

* * *

 _My mind goes wild with thoughts of what that wretched man did to my Catherine. I believe her when she declares that she is still in possession of her maidenhead, but I am not sure I trust her word when she declares that nothing happened. Whatever he did to her, he had better hope that I never find out about it, or perhaps he will not see another day._

 _I must turn in now, for my Catherine is calling for me. Though I angered her earlier in the day, she does not like falling asleep without me by her side. I will hold her close to me and forever protect her from the villainy of that wretched man, as well as from the wretched disease that ails her._

 _Yours,_

 _Colonel R. Fitzwilliam_


	3. 16 - 23 April, 1814

_Saturday, 16 April 1814_

 _To myself,_

 _We arrived rather late in the afternoon, as a storm delayed us, and my Catherine's condition is not improving. Her coughing fits are more frequent and I gave her a handkerchief, only to have it returned to me the colour of a bright red poppy. It pains me to see my love so ill, and her interactions with Mr. Wickham continue to irk me further. The wondering is beginning to eat away at me and I fear I must distract myself, or I will pester her further about it._

 _It is wonderful to be at Westfield again. When my Catherine asked me what the name of our Clitheroe estate was called, hearing its name confused her. 'What is the meaning behind it?' she asked me, and I informed her that it had been the surname of my great-great grandmother, whom had been much loved by my great-great grandfather, so much so that he named the estate that he had built for her after her. It's full name is Sophia Charlotte Caroline Westfield, but we have all shortened it to Westfield._

 _Mama had arrived only the night before, as our Matlock estate is only a day's' carriage ride away..._

* * *

"My sweet daughter, how wonderful to have you here in our home!" Mama said lovingly to my Catherine. "You poor thing, your colour has drained from your face. I will place you in the comfiest bed I can possibly find here at Westfield!"

"Mama, but that bed would be yours," I said to her. "My Catherine and I cannot possibly take your bedchamber."

"Nonsense, I won't here of it, Richard! This home will someday belong to you, and it is about time you came into possession of the master bedchamber! After all, it is the only bedchamber connected to my bedchamber, where I will only allow my sweet daughter to sleep while she recovers."

"Lady Matlock, you're being so generous," said Catherine breathlessly, her arm in my mother's hands and my hand on her lower back.

"Formalities such as that are no longer necessary, my dear. You are my daughter now, through your marriage to my son," said Mama, but I could sense Catherine's discomfort.

"Mama, Catherine is tired. She must rest," I said; one look at my Catherine suggested that she was not going to protest, as she usually did when I recommended rest.

"Of course. The bed should already be made. It is waiting ever so anxiously for its occupant! I must see that a fire is started in the room and that our dearest Catherine has hot coals beneath her bed. Rest easy, my dear, and I shall bring you some broth later," said Mama, and she bestowed a kiss on Catherine's brow before attending to her business.

"Are we truly going to sleep in separate bedchambers?" asked Catherine weakly once we were alone.

"Absolutely not. If you think I can part from your side even for a moment, after all we have been through, then your illness is making you insane," I replied, lifting her in my arms and carrying her up the wooden stairs.

"Westfield is quite beautiful," Catherine said as I carried her down the upstairs corridor.

"Yes, this is a very historic home. Queen Anne stayed here once, a long time ago. In the very room that you will be staying in."

"Truly?" I nodded.

"I've always admired Queen Anne. She was so brave, taking on the throne after losing so much. And she did it brilliantly! I dream of meeting her."

"Hopefully, you won't be meeting her anytime soon, my love." The door to the bedchamber that had once been my mother's, but would now be my Catherine's, was already open, and I carried her in and set her on the bed. "You will never want of love beneath this roof, my Catherine. Beneath this roof, you are the queen of this estate and I assure you, you will always be cared for. Whomever you call for, whether it be me or Mama, we will always come to your side no matter how far away we are."

"You don't have to reassure me of anything, Richard. I've already deduced that from the kindness you and your mother have shown me." I smiled warmly at her, which she returned, and I pressed my lips to her brow the moment my mother entered the room.

"Richard, you have many letters here for you, one from your Aunt," she said, handing me the letters.

"Lord, help my soul," I replied as I took them.

"You don't think she'll be upset with your marriage, do you?"

"Mama, this is Lady Catherine we are speaking of. She irritated Darcy to no end about his marriage to Mrs. Darcy and I am certain she will hound me about my match as well." I flipped through the envelopes. "Nothing yet from the sanitorium?"

"Richard, it was only sent on Tuesday. It likely isn't to arrive until Tuesday next, maybe not even Wednesday," Catherine chirped from the bed.

"A man can hope, can he not?" I let out a sigh. "Thank you, Mama, I will read these in due time." I kissed her brown and embraced her, feeling her hand in my hair.

"I will go and write to your father about your arrival. Do you need anything else, my son?" Mama asked me once we had parted.

"Only our things brought up from the carriage," I replied.

"I will arrange it," she said, and she left us. I looked back down at the letters in my hand and sat on the end of the bed, my Catherine wrapping her arms around me.

"Your aunt does not approve of our marriage?" she asked me.

"My aunt, the Lady Catherine de Burgh, is a very prude woman who only mingles with high society, save for a few lucky parishioners who abide to her every wish. She treats them like slaves and rewards them with funds when they do something for her," I replied.

"Is this the woman that terrorised Lizzy when she and Mr. Darcy were married?"

"Indeed she is, and I am very pleased that she has not written to you. She likely wrote this before our marriage, or as soon as it was printed in the papers. She has spies everywhere, I'd swear on it."

"Why don't you read it, then, Richard?"

"Because I do not wish to distress you, my love. You are not well and the nastiness of this letter might upset you."

"My Richard, you know me. I can handle a scathing letter from a miserable old goat just as well as I can handle an illness." I smiled at her comment, then glanced at her over my shoulder.

"That you can, my strong girl." I kissed her cheek, then set the other letters aside and opened the one from my aunt.

" _Dear Colonel Fitzwilliam_ ," I began.

"She called you 'Colonel'?"

"She enjoys the title far too much." I looked at the letter in my hands again. " _Dear Colonel Fitzwilliam, how dare you shame this family even further by marrying yet another country chit and related that ridiculous, impolite and improper Elizabeth Bennet?_ Ooh, Country chit, now that isn't very nice."

"Wouldn't be the first time I heard that one," Catherine replied, and I chuckled as I tried to find my place in the letter again.

" _I refuse to refer to her as Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy because that would mean that I accept her as my niece, just as I will refuse to call your new bride Mrs. Fitzwilliam._ Come now, Aunt, her name is only legally Mrs. Catherine Fitzwilliam!" Catherine and I both chuckled lightly. " _I heard of her recent illness and I must declare that it is quite a shame that she didn't-_ My word! I have the right mind to write this woman a letter as scathing and horrible as this one in my very hands!"

"Oh, Richard-"

"My love, please don't allow the words of my scathing aunt chase you away. She is so set in her snobbish high societal ways and refuses to accept anything beneath that. You are not worthless or a country chit or anything else cruel this woman has to say."

"I don't base my opinions of you or the rest of your family on that miserable old goat, Richard. You should know this!"

"I do... Which is why I shall tear up this letter and throw it in the fire. I won't even give her the satisfaction of knowing I have read it." With that said, I stood and did exactly as I said, and then I returned to her side. "Get your rest, my love. We will be here a week at least, maybe even a fortnight, until that letter arrives. I do hope sincerely that they respond quickly."

* * *

 _My Catherine fell asleep rather quickly this evening and is sleeping peacefully, although every so often as I write this, I can hear her wheezing in her sleep. I hope against all hope that the sanitorium writes back soon. I will send for our local physician tomorrow and have him tend to Catherine, for she needs all of the help she can get._

 _Yours,_

 _Colonel R. Fitzwilliam_

* * *

 **{this letter arrived at Westfield on Saturday, 23 April 1814}**

 _Monday, 18 April 1814_

 _Dear Colonel R. Fitzwilliam,_

 _We are pleased to have gotten your letter on this rainy day and can only assume that your wife, Mrs. Catherine Fitzwilliam, is faring well. We understand that you have been anxiously awaiting this letter for quite sometime and we are pleased to hear that you have moved your wife closer so that the journey may be less taxing. We are just as pleased to inform you that later this afternoon, a room will be opening up and we will be glad to accept your wife into it and work on her recovery together. You are very lucky, for not many have heard of us and there is yet to be a waiting list - after all, we have only been open since the summer of 1812._

 _We wish you a swift journey and we very eagerly await the arrival of your wife._

 _Yours,_

 _Dr. William McKelvey_

 _Saint Andrew's Sanitorium for the Ill_

 _Dornoch, Highland, Scotland_

* * *

 _Saturday, 23 April 1814_

 _To Mr. and Mrs. Thomas and Martha Bennet,_

 _The sanitorium has room for our Catherine! I received the letter earlier this afternoon, and no sooner could it have come! Our Catherine's condition has been worsening since Monday and she is only getting worse. Our things are being packed now and we will leave early tomorrow morning, at dawn. I will be accompanying her and living with her at the sanitorium and I will write daily on her condition. Our Catherine will get better and I will make sure of it._

 _Please keep her in your prayers, and I beg of you to pass on this information to the rest of our extended family. My mother knows and will be informing my side of the family. I thank you both for your continued support and I will have her home and safe before the end of the year._

 _Your son,_

 _Colonel R. Fitzwilliam_


	4. 24 April - 4 May, 1814

_Sunday, 24 April 1814_

 _To myself,_

 _We set off early this morning for Dornoch and my Catherine is so ill, she cannot sit up unassisted any longer. Her coughing has gotten worse and she has grown very pale. I read the other letters I received, one of them from Darcy saying that they had to dismiss a servant whom had been secretly harbouring a milder case of the consumption - they could not keep the young girl around Mrs. Darcy's beautiful new daughter. I do wonder if, perhaps, this servant girl tended to my Catherine while she was ill at Pemberley and perhaps, it was her who passed on the illness to her._

 _There were other papers in with the letter from the sanitorium, one stating that I, too, would be subject to examination if I am to stay with Catherine. I will submit to any examination if it means I may stay with my Catherine. I pray to whatever God watches us from above and hope for a swift recovery for my Catherine._

 _Yours,_

 _Colonel R. Fitzwilliam_

* * *

 _Thursday, 28 April 1814_

 _To myself,_

 _It was this day that was initially planned for mine and my Catherine's wedding, but we were sixteen days early. Nevermind that, we arrived at the sanitorium today and it is every bit of magnificent as it was described to me. It had once been a grand castle, but was refurbished and rebuilt to suit the needs of a sanitorium. They accept only sixteen patients at a time, per chamber, and my Catherine is very lucky to be one of them. Catherine was removed from the carriage on a stretcher and brought to her chamber to be examined..._

* * *

"Come, Colonel Fitzwilliam, for ye, too, must be examined," said a doctor to me once I had entered the grand entrance hall. "Ah am Doctor William McKinley, Ah wrote to ye about your request."

"Yes, I recall. It is a great pleasure to meet you," I replied, and I followed him into a small room complete with a settee and a desk.

"T'is heah is my office. Whenev'r ye need me, Ah will always be heah," said Dr. McKelvey in his thick Scottish brogue - it was so thick, I struggled understanding it. "Ah'll need ye te remove yer shert, laddie." I did as I was told and Dr. McKelvey placed his stethoscope on my chest.

"That's a bit chilly, isn't it?" I said, and Dr. McKinley chuckled.

"Ah need ye te breathe in n' out fer me, laddie, real deap," he replied, and I did. "And again." I repeated as he moved the stethoscope. "Two more tiems, laddie." I did as I was told, and he removed his stethoscope. "How long hev ye bee in close contact with Messes Fitzwilliam?"

"Almost a month. We were only married sixteen days ago," I replied.

"Congratulations," said Dr. McKelvey. "It seems that ye've got some crackles in yer breathin', but yer in the right place fer tha'. It should come as no surprise that ye've got a touch of the consumption as well."

"Not at all," I replied. "I suspected it was the cause of a recent labour in my breathing."

"Ye'll be treated as well, although ye can expect te be cured o' t'is relativeleh quickleh, compared te yer wife. Ah will examine 'er meself next."

"Thank you very much," I replied, and he left me with final instructions on how to get to mine and Catherine's chamber and said he would inform the nurses that I would be needing some medical attention as well. I arrived at the chamber and Catherine was already being examined, behind closed doors, by Dr. McKelvey and his nurses. I sat on the settee and waited until I could see her, only to be told that I would have to wait a couple of weeks after my own treatment before seeing her.

* * *

 _I am most certainly unhappy about not being able to see my Catherine, but I do not want to make her any more ill than she already is. After I finish this entry, I shall write to mine and Catherine's relations announcing that we have arrived at the sanitorium safely. I am most certain that Mama will not be happy hearing that I, too, have a touch of consumption, but at least she will know that I am in the right place and will be treated quickly. I received my first treatments today and, if Dr. McKelvey's techniques work, I will be cured of it in no time and so will my Catherine._

 _Yours,_

 _Colonel R. Fitzwilliam_

* * *

 **{this letter arrived at the sanitorium on Monday, 9 May 1814}**

 _Wednesday, 4 May 1814_

 _Dear Colonel Fitzwilliam,_

 _I beg of you not to alarm Kitty with this news, as she will blame herself, but Mr. Bennet has taken ill and Mr. Phylis believes it is with the consumption. He says he likely caught it from close contact with Catherine, but Mr. Bennet is not bitter. Now that all five of my daughters are married, I don't worry anymore about them being homeless, but I do worry for myself. I have already written to my other daughters and I do hope that what little time I have left with Mr. Bennet is longer than I've been led to believe._

 _He was very pleased to hear that you and Kitty have made it safely to Dornoch and your daily updates of our daughter are very much appreciated. We are glad to hear that you have responded well to the treatment you have received and we are both sorry to hear that you've received a bit of it as well. We trust that Kitty is in capable hands and we are certain that she will recover quickly now that she is there. Do keep writing daily of my daughter's condition._

 _Yours,_

 _Martha Bennet_


	5. 5 - 10 May, 1814

_Thursday, 5 May 1814_

 _To myself,_

 _I have responded to the treatment I have received well and, according to Dr. McKelvey, I no longer have active disease. My Catherine, however, still has active disease and is showing very little signs of improving. I was permitted to see her at last and she looked quite a frightening sight. She was very pale and frail - she looked as if she were dying. She still does now, and perhaps she is. Perhaps bringing her here, far from home, was a terrible idea and it was all in vain. Before I saw her, I had been writing to her family about her condition based on Dr. McKelvey's and the nurses' words on her condition, but now that I have seen her myself, I am not sure how I can write to her family with hopes of good news to come._

 _Dr. McKelvey says this is normal with many of his patients and that, in due time, she will begin to recover, but it will take time. I dream of being able to have a proper marriage to my Catherine. I dream of being able to hold her in our bed at Westfield with the curtains of the bed drawn so that we may lie in bed together for hours on end, both of us unclothed and embracing between lovemaking and resting. For so long, I have wanted to know what it would be like to make love to my Catherine, but at the same time, I fear what she would think of me unclothed. I am not as fit nor as thin as I had once been and certainly not quite as hairless as I used to be. I fear she will run in fear believing me to be some kind of overweight orangutan. I cannot help but wonder, though, if she has ever had similar thoughts about me..._

 _I should not be thinking of these things now, but I suppose that I cannot help it. I am a man with a thirst for the woman I love and I will wait for her to be ready, but I do declare that waiting may hurt quite a bit. For Catherine's sake, I do hope she will recover soon, not to consummate our marriage but because I cannot stand seeing her so ill._

 _Yours,_

 _Colonel R. Fitzwilliam_

* * *

 _Sunday, 8 May 1814_

 _To my dearest Catherine,_

 _I have decided to write my journal entries to you instead, as I sometimes feel I can be less open with myself than I am with you. You regained consciousness for the first time today since we arrived, but it was not for very long. I had been breaking my fast in my bedchamber when it happened, but after it had happened, one of the nurses, I believe her name is Miss Mackelby, informed me that you had called for me. I dropped my utensils and ran to your side, only to find you unconscious yet again. I sat on the edge of your bed and I stroked your dark brown hair, which looked like midnight against your pale white skin, and whispered to you, 'I am here, my Catherine, and I always shall be'. You did not respond, but I knew in my heart that you had received my message._

 _It has been a very long fortnight, my love, since we discovered your illness and brought you to the sanitorium. But progress has been made and that is evident by you regaining consciousness. Dr. McKelvey said that some patients - not all - rejected the treatment and never again regained consciousness, but you did and that is a start. I declare that I will not leave your side again, for I want to be there the next time you regain consciousness. I promise you that I will be right there beside you holding your hand so that I may be the first face your beautiful blue eyes fall on. I love you, my darling._

 _All of my strength to you._

 _Forever yours,_

 _Colonel R. Fitzwilliam_

* * *

 _Tuesday, 10 May 1814_

 _To my dearest Catherine,_

 _A letter arrived today from your mother bearing bad news - your father has taken ill with the consumption. I know not how he fares or if he is even still alive, and I most certainly won't be telling you in person until you are much better. I know you, Catherine, and your dear mother is correct; you will blame yourself for his illness. His illness is not your fault, my love, and you did not choose to pass on the illness to him, just like how that servant girl at Pemberley did not choose to pass on the illness to you. If she had, I would have wrung her neck, but I know that that is not how illnesses work._

 _I wrote back to your mother expressing our condolences and our prayers for his recovery, but you and I both know that the consumption kills all it touches, save for those in sanitoriums, occasionally. I fear that when we said our farewells was the last time we shall ever see Mr. Bennet and even Longbourn, and I am certain that Mrs. Bennet knows this as well. Where she will go, I haven't a clue, but I cannot willingly accept her under my roof with you still so ill. She is no spring chicken and may possibly catch your illness._

 _I wish your father the best, my love, and all of my strength will continue to go to you. Perhaps soon, you will gain consciousness - and your memories - for longer than a few short moments._

 _Forever yours,_

 _Colonel R. Fitzwilliam_


	6. 15 June, 1814

_Wednesday, 15 June 1814_

 _To my dearest Catherine,_

 _I've just now realised that I have signed each of my journal entries to you nearly the same. How funny is it that we as humans fall into routines so simply without even knowing so... I kept away from you for a few days in fear of upsetting you with my presence, but you had not emerged, so I decided to check on you in your bedchamber..._

* * *

I gently knocked on the door first, then called your name, but received no answer for either. I then opened the door and gingerly stepped over the threshold, panicking for a moment when I saw that you were neither in your bed nor anywhere in the room. Composing myself, I then noticed that the window was cracked open, so I stuck my head outside and peered around the corner, spotting you seated on the balcony that was connected to my bedchamber. "Catherine!" I called, noting that it was pouring - I was grateful the balcony was covered. "What on the Lord's earth are you doing out here! You will catch your death!"

"I needed a change of scenery, and the room was so stuffy that even opening the window was not enough to clear the air," she told me.

"This damp air is terrible for your lungs, my dear! Do come inside!" I begged of her, but she would not have it.

"I have been out here nearly an hour, Richard. What difference will a few more moments make?" she replied.

"An hour?" I sighed in defeat. "Very well, I shall join you then, but not through this window. My aging body is not nearly as nimble as it used to be." I exited her bedchamber and entered mine, opening the door leading to the balcony and seating myself beside her. "The rain has not lightened up at all since it started up again this morning. Miss Manniard believes it will rain all week. She declares she can feel it in her bones."

"Ah, I do adore Miss Manniard. She is very in tune to the world around her."

"That, and we are in the bloody Kingdom. It always rains here." Catherine chuckled very lightly, then returned to her sad gaze. "What are you thinking about?"

"Mama, mostly. I cannot imagine what she is going through. She must have been so alone."

"Your sisters were there-"

"Just Lizzy and Mary. Jane was recovering from having a child, Lydia probably did not even read a letter written to her by Lizzy - I shan't ever believe that the letter reached us here before it reached her, we are much farther north than she - and I was trapped in here confined to a bed unable to get up. All the while, our father was dying. From a disease I passed onto him." I opened my mouth to speak, but she held up a hand to stop me. "Do not even start, Richard, I beg of you. I know I did not directly cause the death of my father, but he would not have been ill had I not been before him."

"You don't know that to be true, Catherine. He could have caught it from a servant or from someone in town."

"Richard, he was in close quarters with me for a long while. He most likely caught the consumption from me."

"He did not wish you to blame yourself."

"I'm not worried about that. Jane and Lizzy have both recently borne children, Lydia is so far north and Mary - Mama was never even close to Mary and from what I understand, their home is so small - and I am here still ill. It is a miracle Mama never caught ill!"

"I know not where your mother resides currently, as I only received the letter of your father's passing four days ago, but if I were to guess, it would be that she is residing with Mrs. Bingley assisting her with the new baby."

"Mama always worried that Jane would have a troublesome delivery and I am guessing she did."

"It is possible." A moment of silence passed between the two of us as the rain pattered against the roof of the building and hissed as it hit the surface of the nearby lake.

"I dreamt I heard doctors talking over me one day, when I was really bad off. They said the consumption is linked to difficulty bearing children in young women."

"Catherine, it was just a dream-"

"No, Richard, I don't believe it was. It was too clear and too distinct and perhaps not even a dream at all. Perhaps I had regained consciousness long enough to hear it. Or something of the like."

"That doesn't mean it will apply to you."

"Perhaps not... But it still can. They said they don't know how the two things are related, only that somehow, they are."

"They could be wrong. Doctors have been wrong before." Another silent moment passed before Catherine spoke to me again.

"I do miss the sunlight on my face. The warmth of it and a good summer breeze..."

"Hopefully, you will get to enjoy it soon. You do appear to be much better than before-"

"My chest is tight and I have difficulty breathing. As much as I may look well on the outside, I am still unwell on the inside."

"Catherine, I say this out of love as your husband, but you do not look well on the outside." She turned her head to look at me and I could see clearly the sunken look in the face of this recently-ill woman that was still so pale. Her chemise hung off of her like the branches of a willow tree and the fatness in her cheeks was long gone, making her appear rather skeletal. "You have lost much weight and you are the same colour as your chemise, my dear. I am worried that it will fall off of you, you are so thin."

"I thank you for being honest with me," she replied. "I am tired of being here. I wish to go home."

"My dear, if you were not here, you would have died! As for your home, well... Something tells me it is no more your home than this place is."

"I am certain Mr. Collins turned my family out the second my father passed."

"Most likely, the insufferable man. That poor wife of his. I could barely stand being in a room with him at Rosings, let alone imagine being married to him." Catherine chuckled gently, then tapered off into a cough. "Catherine..."

"I'm all right, Richard!" she cried, burying her coughs into a handkerchief. She sat back once the fit was over and attempted to catch her breath, a small drop of blood making its way out of the corner of her mouth.

"Catherine! You clearly are not!" I scooped her up in my arms and ran with her back inside, setting her back down on her bed as she coughed more into her handkerchief and pulling on the string that was connected to a bell downstairs. "You'll be all right, my Catherine, you'll be all right... I hope you'll be all right..." She sat forward as she coughed more into a blood-soaked handkerchief as I rubbed her back. Moments later, Dr. McKinley burst into the room followed by a couple of nurses. "She's started coughing up blood again! I don't know what else to do!"

"Come this way, Colonel, let Dr. McKinley work with her," said Miss Manniard, taking me by the shoulders and leading me out of the room. The last glimpse I got of my Catherine that day was of her pale white face following me before the door closed.

* * *

 _I can only hope that you get better, but it appears that we have been set back yet again. I have written to your family explaining what happened. I will pray to whatever god is still listening to me that your family does not lose another member so soon after they lost your father. Feel better, my love, so that I may take you to our forever home for us to finally begin our married life._

 _Yours faithful husband,_

 _Colonel R. Fitzwilliam_


End file.
